


Bad Days

by evelynIttor



Series: Hell Recovery Verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, Hell Flashbacks, Hell Trauma, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelynIttor/pseuds/evelynIttor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lisa’s bad day didn’t seem so bad once she heard Sam’s screams. Cotton candy bingo Wildcard square (Embracing Imperfection).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Days

Lisa heard the screams before she opened the door. Her ass was aching today, but that’s what she got for taking off three days in a room. She’d noticed some loss of flexibility today too, it hadn’t been a good day at work.

The screaming got louder when she stepped inside and headed for the kitchen for some painkillers and water. Sam’s voice sounded rough and hoarse, as if he’d been going at it all day. Lisa rubbed her temples and swallowed a mixture of Tylenol and ibuprofen. She checked the fridge, Ben had left a note, he was gone to a friend’s for the evening.

She tried to relax while making up a tray to take upstairs. Milk, some pills for Dean, a sandwich and another piece of plain bread, in case Sam was up for eating something. As an afterthought she grabbed the medical case Dean used occasionally, he didn’t like drugging Sam and Sam hated it. But sometimes, they all needed it.

Lisa knocked softly on her bedroom down while Sam was taking a breath between screams.

“Come in.” Dean answered her knock, his voice sounding oddly strong after fifteen minutes of Sam’s pained and terrified screams

She pushed open the door. Sam was cowered in one of the corners, a blanket draped around his body. Lisa set down the tray and offered Dean the cup of milk. When he was like this Sam didn’t tolerate anyone but Dean and even Dean had trouble most of the time. She sat on the bed, watching the exchange.

“Sam.” Dean whispered his brother’s name before tapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Time to drink something.”

Sam didn’t move from the corner, but he didn’t protest as Dean moved around and pressed the glass to his lips. He stopped screaming long enough to take a gasping, sobbing breath and as he finished, Dean tilted the cup and Sam sipped at the milk

Lisa bit her lip and tucked her shaking hands under her legs. It hurt to watch, Sam had his good days. He got dressed, with help, and moved around the house talking to people. He helped Ben with his homework sometimes. There was that day when he made a couscous and kale salad for her.

Dean took the cup away and wiped Sam’s mouth off with his sleeve. “Hey Sammy. You back yet?” He offered his hand, in case Sam wanted to take it. Touching Sam when he was like this could be risky, like trying to pet a bear.  
Things were looking up. Sam intertwined his fingers with Dean’s and sagged against the wall. He stared at the glass and Dean gave him another sip, this one a little bit longer. He drank more of it, less spilled out to run down the his chin and drip onto his bare chest.

“Shirt?” Sam whispered, wincing, probably from the pain in his throat. It sounded even worse now that he’d stopped screaming.

Lisa was already on her feet, opening the bottom drawer of the dresser. The one drawer had been cleaned out for Sam. Sweatpants, socks, soft t-shirts and hoodies filled it now, along with a single pair of jeans that Sam had been wearing when he’d arrived. She grabbed on of the plain white shirts and a pair of boxers, bringing them back to Dean.

“Sorry.” Sam apologized as Dean helped him into the clothes before wrapping him in the comforter off of the bed, doing all of the work and letting Sam rest back against the wall when he finished. At least this time he wasn’t facing the corner.

“It’s okay.” Dean let Sam pull him close and wrapped his arm around his little brother when Sam snuggled in close. “Hey, hey, Sammy. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam whimpered. Lisa could see the damp patches forming on Dean’s shirt where his tears were falling. “I don’t, I’m sorry, please Dean-”

“Shh.” Dean rubbed Sam’s head, stroking his hair and massaging his temples. “It’ll be okay.”

“Don’t like it.” Sam buried his head deeper in Dean’s shirt. “Want it all better, want it to go away-”

“It will, it is. I promise Sammy.” Dean sighed. “You’re getting better all the time. Remember? Sometimes you have a bad day. We’ve all got bad days.”

“Not like this.” Sam grumbled, but Lisa could feel the mood lightening, Dean was going to starve off this particular line of thought. It probably wouldn’t surface again until it was her day at home with Sam.

“Really?” Dean’s tone was teasingly now, light and with a edge of humour. “What about the hunt where Dad slipped in the sewers and he came home with a dead cockroach in his hair? Or the time we stayed with Bobby and I knocked over that stack of cars? That was pretty bad.”

Sam reached up to feel his hair, as if checking to see if there was a cockroach hiding in it.

“We’ve all got bad days.” Dean said quietly. “Yours are extra bad, but there’s good days too.” He looked down at his little brother. “Let’s move to the bed.” 

Lisa got up and knelt on the other side, ready to help Dean move the world, or a gigantic little brother.


End file.
